Boomerang (Here Comes Chaos)
by The Wandering Muse
Summary: Running from her past, Kath befriends a cheeky, obnoxious thief named Kol and then his brother. Follow them into an adventure where they work out their slew of issues whilst kicking plenty of asses. Based on Syfy's Killjoys.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Soo I'm back with a new fic idea which aims to explore more of an under-rated pairing because they've never met in canon. Also, I don't know how long this will last. (I didn't plan this one as I did with the other tvd fics.) It's based on the Syfy's Killjoys series. I just loved that show!**_

_**Misc notes: Dialogue between ::: _ ::: are automated vocal notifications from AI/computers**_

* * *

**Quad Planetary System**

The cruel sun beats down, one malevolent eye unblinking, and the sky as its co-conspirator with not even a wisp of cloud to soften the harsh rays. The lizards take shelter in the shadows of the rocks where the sand isn't hot enough to roast them. Through the blinding grains of wind, a cloaked figure travels the deep barrens of the wasteland, trudging knee-deep into the searing sand. The air was thick and hazy, its breath tastes of salty sweat clinging against heavy layers of clothing. The figure stops, shades their eyes and peers through the makeshift scarf used as screen protection from the treacherous sandstorms. In front stands the approaching entry - an old rusted ventilation airway.

Elsewhere in the deep bowels of the compound, a scruffy-looking man spits out specks of blood, hands tied above his head to a deactivated cement filter whilst surrounded by a pair of menacing thugs carrying batons. He grins at his tormentor despite the gravity of the situation.

"You're taking this a bit personal for a hunk of metal, aren't you?"

"My boss paid 60,000 Joy for that hunk of metal. Worth more in rusted parts than you are in good order. So where's the ship?"

He waves his tied up hands helplessly. "You got the wrong guy, man. I swear. You are gonna owe me such an apology basket when we straighten this…"

One of them lands another brutal hit, causing his head to whip to the side from the force. He spits a mouthful of blood onto the cold floor. He chuckles and the thug closest to him steps forward, tapping the metal rod threateningly.

"Something amusing?"

The prisoner smirks. "Yeah. That ship? Was an H-class frigate with topline, sat link security, and yeah… I took that bitch right from under you. So ask yourself… If I'm that good, would I really be working alone? Or do I have a well-armed team, who any minute are gonna…"

The other thug scoffs, interrupting the brat's monologue. He makes a come-hither gesture out of his sightline. "Oh, you mean her?"

There's loud muffled screaming towards the side and he sees _her_ kicking and pulling against her restraints fruitlessly. They got her good. Her knees hit the ground hard and blood drains from his face.

Shit.

He pulls against his own, remembers that he's just in deep shit as her. "Fuck," he curses under his breath. He takes a good look at her, scans for any hidden injuries but her face is devoid of pain. Just apprehension brewing on the surface. "Hey, you okay?"

She nods. "I'm good."

"We caught her sneaking around outside, trying to bribe a guard to cut you free. Some crack team."

He has to think fast. She wasn't supposed to get caught. It was supposed to be really simple. He looks up to the security camera in the corner of the room. Beneath it is a high-tech security door. He stares at it hatefully, then closes his eyes and sighs, admitting defeat. "Get your boss. I'm ready to deal."

"No one sees Kai," one guy shifts his position states uncompromisingly.

"Well, then Kai never sees his ship," he snarks as best as he could.

A door hisses open and a man with chaotic spiky hair swaggers out of the shadows and into the fore. He rests against the pillar with a face of utter nonchalance as if he was merely waiting for a bus on a spring day, apple in hand. "Well, my goodness. Ordering me about in my own compound? Must be hard getting around, with balls that big."

The prisoner shrugs and shifts uncomfortably. "There's some chafing."

"So that's it? My boys work you over for an hour and nothing, but threaten your girl and watch you fold, hmmm?

He shrugs again and admits, "I guess so."

Kai's almost smiling - smiling as if something good is about to happen. Good for him which means shit's about to go down. Badly for them both. "Nice of you to confirm you off-world trash are still a bunch of mama's boys."

He can't resist himself in replying, "I'm glad to see sadism is alive and well in the Badlands."

Kai stops in front of the brunette and then without warning, he grabs a fistful of hair, hauling her off the ground. She yelps and tries to kick him in the shins but another goon waylays her, pins her onto the table. Kai's lips stretch widely to the arrogant brat thrashing against the ropes. "We're all gentlemen here. For instance, after we give your lady here a vigorous… frisking… We'll be sure to say thank you."

"I said that I would talk!" He yells.

Kai turns to reply, "You didn't say you'd tell the truth." He spreads his arms. "Consider this motivation."

She kicks one in the groin and sends him toppling over. "Get your hands off me," she screams in panic. Kai watches his men edge slowly forward towards the feisty woman and comments offhandedly, "She's the only team you hired, son. You seriously miscalculated."

"Well… that's assuming."

He raises a brow. "Assuming what?"

"That I'm the boss. And that your ship is what we came for."

Kai's cigarette-hand pauses mid-air at those words.

As Thug#1 drops eagerly to his knees, pushing at the girl's skirts up with a lascivious grin, his face level with her waist, the front of her skirt begins to rise as though she's getting an erection right in front of his face. Thug#1 freezes in confusion. He hears a whistle and looks up at her smiling coldly, "My eyes are up here."

BOOM!

His lips curl in sheer delight when the 'erection' his accomplice was sporting, turns out to be a telescoping-barrel plasma gun rigged beneath her skirts, explodes with an electric pulse. It hits Thug#1 square in the chest, slamming him into a wall.

Everything unfolds at once.

Thug#2 tries to finish him off but he kicks him hard in the groin. He makes use of the chains, using the wall for momentum, and then delivers a brutal roundhouse kick to the taller thug's head. Thug#2 drops to the floor in less than a minute. Kai bolts to his feet and makes a run for his security door. His accomplice tears aside the tattered remains of her skirts, removing the plasma gun strapped to her inner thigh and shoots him free from his chains. He drops to a crouch on the ground and grabs the fallen thug's dropped weapon.

Just as Kai makes it to his security door, frantically entering the code, two consecutive plasma blasts blow a dent in the door, deliberately missing him by a hair. He turns back slowly to find the demure accomplice and a shirtless loud-mouth stand side by side, firearms raised in tandem.

She points the gun at him with a beaming smirk. "Get up. Malachai Parker, in the name of the R.A.C., you are Locked and Served."

Malachai swallows, raising his hands slowly in surprised surrender. "Well damn."

The duo grin, pleased with themselves. The smart-ass leans against the table, feeling a bit woozy. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices one of the thugs trying to crawl towards a gun. He shoots him in the hand before stating, "And I wasn't kidding about that fucking basket."

* * *

**Prisoner Intake Facility, Westerly**

They dock their ship at the landing bay at Old Westerly, the largest of Qresh's three moons and also where the lowest economic class of The Quad lived. A melodious voice speaks through the intercoms, gaining his attention as he pores over the diagnostics from their latest mission.

_::: Approaching Intake. Docking procedures initiated. You're cutting it a little close on fuel, Kol. :::_

"Easy, Lucy. I made it back just in time," he replies, eyes rolling up at the AI.

_::: I nag because I care. :::_

The duo walk down the landing ramp with Kai handcuffed in the middle as they make their way towards the gated facility. She smacks her partner's hand away from his constant rubbing.

"Stop touching it," she chides.

"Stop touching me," he scowls. He slaps her hand back, nudging her away. "Have you seen how much we make on this Warrant? I'm gonna buy out the entire bazaar when we're done here."

She smiles upon reaching the designated entrance and shoves Kai towards the front. "Watch him, I got this." She approaches the black-uniformed intake officer sitting behind a glass window, watching a video while stuffing lunch into his face. She states confidently, "Hi. Prisoner drop-off. Reclamation Warrant 2-3-0-Beta."

The officer in charge barely gives the prisoner a glance-over before looking at the screen with a bored expression. He taps the glass with a bored expression. "Just put it in the system."

She sighs and places her palm on a screen for scanning. Kol repeats the process with his own hand, and then Malachai's. The intake officer glances at his computer screen as the cumulative data pops up with the warrant; photo ID licenses for the duo under the words 'RECLAMATION AGENTS.'

_::: Hands. Verified. Kath. Level 5. Verified. Kol Mikaelson. :::_

"Level 3. Killjoys huh?"

She clarifies with a nod. "Reclamation Agents."

"I thought about joining the Rack. Then I realized that the real work is done by us Company guys on the ground," the officer quips.

Kath tilts her head with an exasperated sigh. "Thank you for your service."

_::: Warrant verified. Transaction Logged. Prisoner: accepted. :::_

She turns away and watches the gang leader gets processed into the system with a guard standing watch. Kai turns towards them and directs his voice at Kol. "Just so I'm clear… did you even take my ship?"

Kol shakes his head. "Nope."

"Just shot your mouth off to my boys until they brought you straight to me, huh?"

Kol banters, "Not so dumb after all. Your security system is top-notch but your people are shit."

The metal gates close between the two and the guard yanks Kai's metal chains, forcing the leader to walk backward. "Well, if you're ever looking for side work… Looks like I'm about to have some openings," he shouts.

Kol makes a face. "Ooh… About that, our agency… isn't real big on moonlighting for prisoners."

Kai yells, their footsteps fading away as he gets dragged deeper into the confines. "Your loss."

She nudges him playfully before heading back towards the ship. "Hey, you ready?"

Kath takes about maybe ten steps forward before realizing her partner is still rooted to the spot, staring at the screen. "Let's go. If we hurry, we can make it to Leith before nightfall. Kol? The Bazaar? New toys?"

Kol finally looks up with a blank stare, like he'd seen a ghost. He scratches the stubbles under his chin. "Actually, I'm feeling wiped. I'm gonna… I'm gonna take a few days off, and just get some… me time. You good with that?"

"Uh… okay?"

He takes off with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes, and soon she finds herself wandering around Old Town, taking the familiar route to The Royale, the most popular bar where most Killjoys frequent after missions. Today seems a rather busy day where Company soldiers mill around the industrial site, alert and tense that Kath of all days can't be bothered enough to care. A couple of soldiers enter the bar, monotonously asking for identity papers from customers. The bartender, a blue-eyed blond, stunning and handsome with a flair of charm, waves them away.

She knocks back a shot and pushes the empty glass back for another round. "Six years of working together, he's never wanted some "me" time. Nah. Something's up."

With an eloquent arched brow, the blond deftly pours the brunette another shot. "Kath. You work together, live together, do everything but sleep together… and you're worried that he wants a little time apart? Bitch, how charming do you think you are?"

Kath levels an even look. "I know when Kol's lying, Blue."

He switches the topic, one eye trained on those pesky soldiers riling his regulars, and the other on Kath. "Why is the Company in such a twist?"

She shrugs. "They're doing road checks too. What's up over here?"

Static orders from one of the Company's transceivers rings out to the immense relief of all the patrons in The Royale. _Unit five, report to Checkpoint Southwest Westerly. _ "Let's go," the lead soldier orders, and the rest file out.

Blue dispenses some tidbits onto his favorite customer slash occasional bar bouncer. "Oh, you know the usual. Miners are talking about striking again. Company is upping its presence yada yada. Why are you so worried about Kol? If he is lying, maybe he's doing it for a good reason?"

Her lips quirk slightly at his advice. "Some kind of nice surprise? Yeah… no. He's about to do something stupid."

.

_tbc_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Author's Note: Decided to start this mini-chapter in Kol's point-of-view... and then the next chapter will be in Kath's. I had to break it up into chapters because if I put all the action in one chapter. It'll be a mess. So just call this an interlude of sorts?_**

* * *

**The Bazaar, Leith**

"Quit pacing the front of my tent, Mikaelson!" Jenna Sommers's southern accent rings shrilly from the inside of her office. Kol ducks his head in shame and acquiesces. Hands on his buckle belt, he swaggers in to find the former Killjoy shifting some papers on her desk.

"Hi. Sorry about that. I was-" He fumbles for an excuse.

"Not like you to loiter around, boy. What does Kath want?"

Kol straightens his spine and feints looking at his screen. "We picked up a warrant like ten minutes ago. Guy named Andras."

"Yeah, and I noticed it was a level five. Not like her to misclick," Sommers glances up from her messy desk briefly.

He has a game plan. _Don't stall._ Sommers ain't no chatterbox, so if he annoys her enough… she'll dismiss him and send him the information. He can do this. He's amazing at that. One hesitation and she'll know. By the trees, she was a goddamn Level Five Killjoy.

Kol shrugs helplessly and perches on the nearest corner of Sommers's desk. He picks up something cube-like off her desk to play with. Must be a paperweight or whatever desk-bound officers decorate their boring tables with.

"Hey, boss's orders. We kinda go way back. Ran into him during an old mission and that bloke, man. He was a real asshat. Dutch's looking to let loose some steam. So what's this do? Holotransmitter? Is this from the old world?" Kol presses a finger to his temple and closes his eyes.

He feels her sharp nails raking against the gloved cotton of his palm and his eyes find a scowling Sommers snatching the trinket out of his grasp. She places it back in its original location and types rapidly into her personal digital device.

"Get off my table, Mikaelson. Info's sent."

Kol rechecks his device before strolling backward, waving his PDD at her with a charming smile. "Looking good, Sommers."

He hears a scoff as he pivots towards the heavy linen covering the exit. His grin fades into a serious grimace as he heads out.

Now he has to find that damn Arcturus which is a mega interstellar transport ship operated by The Company. Who knows how long that will take. Besides the fact that the junk was a humongous cruise ship means it shouldn't be too hard to find and it sticks out like a sore thumb.

He just hopes Kath wouldn't be _too_ bored enough to check in on him.

* * *

**Prison Space Station**

An aging, mid-sized orbital space station hangs in inky space. One small personal craft departs as the Prison Transpo shuttle skims in, cutting engines and docking. The last of a group of jumpsuited prisoners exit the shuttle into the docking bay. The shuttle is empty until a small door flaps down from the ceiling. Kol carefully lowers himself, donning on an identical prison-issue jumpsuit. Closing the door quietly, he quickly moves to catch up with the other prisoners. The prison guard leads the prisoners into a fight room where the sweaty, blood-hungry crowd crams stadium-style, stacked seats. Snack vendors pass through, while signs and adverts are plastered everywhere.

A large, electrified metal cage stands in the middle where two prisoner combatants are having a brutal MMA match. Legal human cockfighting, privatized and monetized. A speech booms over the group and Kol zooms in towards the booker who was yelling to be heard over the crowd.

"Alright, listen up, bitches. Our circuit takes up and down the J star cluster. When you're done working off your fare, we can drop you off at any one of the colonies along our route. Until then, we own you. Every fight you win goes towards paying down your fare. The further you wanna travel, the more you gotta pay off. The more you gotta pay off, the more you gotta fight. Fan favorites get more matches, so let's try to look pretty out there. We accept no liability for injuries, but in the event of death, your loved ones will receive the usual stipend. Now… watch and learn."

Kol waits till the group dispenses before sidling up to the booker. He slings a friendly arm around the stout man. "Listen, what would it cost me to pick my first opponent?"

He receives a long side-eye in return as the booker gives him a glance-over. "Depends. Who you have in mind?"

Kol grins and points into the center of the ring where two men are brawling competitively in the ring's center. "Coby Andras."

In the ring, one fighter picks up his opponent and slams him down with cracking of bone combined with a spray of blood. The crowd goes wild. The winning fighter pumps his fists in the air, turning to face Kol's direction.

The booker chortles with a head shake before slapping Kol on the back. "Oh… this one's on me, kid."

_._

_tbc_


	3. Chapter 3

**The Bazaar, Leith **

Into the long, bustling aisle of an indoor bazaar, Kath wanders happily around the haphazardly organized stalls until she finds the familiar booth under a shitty handmade sign: JENNA SOMMERS. WARRANT BROKER.

She passes right by the unmanned front area and heads towards the curtained-off back tent. She slinks on to a chair opposite of the former Killjoy pouring her a cup of tea which Kath takes. She takes a wary sniff before sipping the burning amber liquid.

Jenna starts amusedly, "Makes six Warrants you've cleared this cycle."

Kath bates her eyelashes, flirting. "You worried about your old record?"

She chuckles at the bored expression Kath is currently wearing and leans in conspiratorially. "We both know I'll just shoot you if you get too close. Where's Kol?"

Kath replies with a shrug, "I'm on my own this week. Got any low-level Warrants I can knock out fast? Some level twos or threes?"

"Sure. Repos, transpos…" Jenna comments offhandedly, checking her screen. She arches her brow. "But shouldn't you concentrate on finishing your active Warrant?"

Kath returns it. "What active Warrant?"

Jenna gives her a measuring look and then slides a tablet to her.

"The level five Warrant you signed on for I don't know, twelve hours ago? One Coby Andras."

Kath glances down with a quizzical frown. It's a standard digital ACTIVE WARRANT with her photo ID paired with the target's mugshot (Coby Andras) under the flashing words (LEVEL 5) and a countdown clock. Kath looks back at Jenna oddly. She pushes the tablet back.

"Jenna," she stalls. "Level Fives are kill-work. I don't do those."

The blonde stares. "Exactly what I told your partner when he called in for the support intel."

"Kol?"

_What the fuck did he do now?_

Jenna grins predatorily, "Mm-hmm. Pretty boy said he was helping you prep it, so I gave him the info."

There's a pregnant pause, a stillness in the room.

Jenna cocks an eyebrow. "He wasn't lying to me, was he? Using your name to chase a Warrant above his rank, maybe?"

Kath scowls inwardly, her features rearranging itself to a bland smile. "Of course not. That'd be illegal."

_***K/K/K***_

Back on the ship, Kath paces the small, utilitarian cockpit area until Lucy, the ship's AI, chimes in.

_::: Subdermal comlink in range. :::_

This is what Kath has been waiting for.

"Kol Mikaelson, whatever dumbass shit you're doing, _stop_. I'm almost there."

She catches the tail end of his words almost drowned out by other loud bolstering voices. "Um… I can't really chat right now, Kath -"

"Then just listen. Poaching a Level Five? What the hell, Kol! We're hunters, not executioners-"

"Kath! I have no choice. It's personal, alright? I'll explain later. Just stay out of it," Kol rebuts.

Kath hears a small beep and then nothing.

_::: Comlink deactivated. :::_

She stares incredulously at the cockpit screen. "Did he just block me?"

_::: Affirmative. :::_

Kath grabs her jacket and runs out.

"Oh hell no. Lucy, override that. Let me know when you reconnect his com. Tell him I'm coming to kick his ass."

_::: Understood. Ass-kicking imminent. :::_

* * *

_***K/K/K***_

**Fight Arena, Prison Space Station**

Moments later, The guard undoes Kol's electric cuffs and shoves him into the ring, closing the gate behind. He stumbles to a stop, looking up as he hears the other gate close, and then a roar from the crowd as his opponent enters, clearly a crowd favorite. The two men get a look at each other and Coby Andras freezes in a fighter's stance.

"Kol?"

"Klaus. Goddamn," Kol hisses as he gives the other a wide berth. "Guess I didn't really think it was you until now. How have you been, bro?"

Klaus looks around rather pointedly, "Okay… Indentured fighter."

"Right, yeah."

Kol takes a step forward while Klaus takes a step back.

"What are you doing here?"

Kol glances around furtively but the impatient crowd is so loud that they can risk talking. Klaus begins circling as the crowd chants his alias: "_Andras! Andras!"_

"I'm busting you out," Kol replies.

Klaus just stares confusedly. "You paid my debt?"

Kol scoffs at the absurdness. "Oh hell no! Do you know how much you owe? By the way, that is incredibly irresponsible. I got a guy in the infirmary, you just have to fake an injury and get sent there. I'll handle the rest. Okay? So… fake a hard dive in three… two…"

Klaus punches Kol hard in the face and the crowd goes wild. Kol yells, holding his bleeding nose and looks back at Klaus with an almost comic brotherly betrayal.

"Ow! Are you kidding me? Ow! What the hell? Seriously?"

He barely ducks the next punch, rolling out of the way.

* * *

_***K/K/K***_

**Arena Crowd, Prison Space Station**

Elsewhere outside of the circuit, Kath weaves through the small but vocal crowd, hurrying to keep up with a uniformed middle-aged supervisor as he lopes along, reading a tablet and making notes.

"... So, just call off the fight and let me have my partner," Kath finishes.

He half-snorts at her statement. "Yeah, "just call it off." And have my tits handed to me by my boss? I don't think so."

She protests, "You can't keep him in there. The Company has no authority over Killjoys."

But the supervisor continues making his checks. He glances briefly up at the match and smirks at her. "He wants out, all he's gotta do is ask. Until then? Paying viewers love a bloodbath - and your boy looks like a bleeder."

She blocks his path and holds up her Warrant.

"Okay, I didn't want to be a jerk and pull rank, but I have a Warrant for Andras," Kath warns.

He reads it, barely amused, and then begins walking again. He raises his voice to be heard over the crowd. "Good for you. But I don't have to help either. I know the law. Killjoys only have possessions if they make physical contact. You gotta lay hands, baby girl. Good luck with that."

He nods at the electrified cage with a grin, heads on his way. Kath watches him go with a scowl. "Thanks for your help."

She looks aside, trying to think and reacts suddenly, squinting at who sees in the crowd opposite her…

A young, very handsome and wickedly charming man with dark brown hair and hazel eyes, dressed in super avant garde, with his hands clasped in the front, silently studies the fight while the crowd cheers around him.

Kath mutters under her breath. "Oh you are shitting me."

_***K/K/K***_

**Fight Arena, Prison Space Station**

Inside the arena cage, Kol and Klaus circle one another, trading blows. Good as Kol is, Klaus is clearly bigger, faster, tougher. Kol fakes and then lands a right cross with a satisfying thunk. Klaus comments, "Not bad! …Still dropping your right, though."

Kol reflexively covers as Klaus lands a kidney shot, and then maneuvers him into a chokehold.

Kol grunts whilst trying to wrestle out of the hold. "Still fighting dirty."

"What're you gonna do, cry to mom?"

In a fit of rage, Kol snarls, "Asshole. Mom died three years ago." He follows up with a well-connected hit to his solar plexus. The news sends a shock to Klaus who loses his balance, stumbles into the electrical fence. He regains his footing as he stares at Kol who is fighting for breath.

"Mom died? I'm sorry. I didn't know. How?"

Kol shoves his brother with a hard push to the chest.

"She had Quinsy pretty bad the last couple of years. Couldn't find you to tell you. But that's exactly what you wanted, huh? Cut ties with everyone? Even me? Huh? Why? Huh? Where have you been?"

Kol shoves Klaus one more time but this time, Klaus hits back with a brutal hook combo that sends Kol crashing hard. Klaus stands over him, pointing angrily. "Leave it alone."

Kol spits some blood out, staring up at his brother hatefully while the crowd goes wild for the smackdown.

_***K/K/K***_

**Arena Crowd, Prison Space Station**

Outside the circuit, Kath sidles up the man without sparing a glance.

"Lucien," she greets politely.

He quirks his lips in return. "Kath."

"Who's your collar?"

Lucien replies, "In the cage with your boy. Level Five Warrant. You?"

She sighs and flashes her Warrant to which Lucien whistles.

"Double booking a Kill Warrant? Damn. Someone must really want this poor bastard dead."

Kath risks a glance. "Nah. Who does that? Gotta be a clerical error, right?"

Lucien shrugs, "Could be."

She concurs, "So we should just call this off, go straighten it out with our Brokers-"

"And as soon as I leave, you double back and claim the kill yourself? I don't think so," he disputes.

"You've got trust issues. You should see someone about that," states Kath.

He turns towards her with a quaint smile. "I don't think we've ever gone head to head, have we? Should be fun." He gives a parting smirk and exits.

Kath drops the cool act, cursing. She snakes behind the stands and reactivates her comlink. "Thank the Trees. Kol, you hear me? Outta the pit. We got another agent on your target, play time's over."

Kol grunts in return. "I'm working on it!"

*K/K/K*

Fight Arena, Prison Space Station

Kol catches his brother in a wrestling grip, trying to hold him down. He grunts in frustration. "You stay down! Why won't you let me help you?"

In response, Klaus gets the upper hand and puts his little brother in a chokehold, dragging him to his knees so he can whisper urgently into his ear, " I am helping you! This shit is rigged. They don't let good fighters go, they just invent more and more debts until you can't get out. So remember… I'm doing this for your own good."

Kol wheezes, "Doing wha-"

Klaus knees him hard in the face, followed by a whiplash kick that spins Kol with its force, sending him crashing back on his stomach, blood spraying whilst the crowd roars.

Through the haze, Kol can still hear his partner practically shouting at him via the comlink still lodged in his ear. "Kol, leave the mark."

He pushes himself up and stares at Klaus's back, spitting out blood as he defiantly replies, "He's not a mark. He's my brother."

* * *

**_A/N: Please leave a review if you're able. This is my first time trying out a crossover slash alternate universe fandom fic. I'm not entirely sure how this works. I realized there aren't many TVD & Originals Crossover fics in this sector. I really appreciate any sort of feedback or criticism. Thank you for reading._**


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